A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1492 - 1492: The Realm's Most Valiant - Part 10

"Ah, but you miss a fact in saying that, do you not, Lord Blackwell?" Karstly said, still contentedly kneeling, wearing a lazy smile. "This tournament is that turning point. A union of all that we could possibly command to our cause, if we wished of it. I do not suppose any of us thought that our little pocket of the country carried that influence before. Or that the name Patrick did."

"…There's truth in that," Blackwell admitted begrudgingly. "This tournament is the seedbed for it. Without it, I could not confidently declare the possibility in it. You are necessary, Oliver Patrick. Far more necessary than a man of your station ought to be. If you do not join us, we will not have a war to fight. We will be beaten from the start."

"My strength is not so profound," Oliver said, shaking his head. "You will not convince me with compliments."

"Fool," Blackwell said. "It is not your military strength that I compliment. I have said that your strategy has improved, but you will win us no wars with it. It is your peculiar positioning, from your time at the Academy, that has afforded you significance. Your relationship with Queen Asabel is of the utmost importance. If we are to have a war, we need her as the figurehead of our cause. We need General Skullic. The Minister Hod too – that would be a dangerous man to have on our side. The Ministers Yoreholder, and perhaps even General Tavar would be convinced. In short, we need every ally that we can get. I do not call my banners with the aim of losing, Ser Patrick. I intend to see this through to the end. I intend for a new monarch to be sat on that throne by the time we are through. For such purposes, I would name you General."

"General?" Oliver said, startled. He'd had a finger to his lip in thought. Nothing would have pleased him more than Blackwell's declaration a short time ago. But now he was unsure. He had something to protect, in the village of Solgrim. He did not know if it was reckless for him to commit entirely to it. Especially with Nila at his side, to warn him away from his old aggressive actions. He stole continual glances at her, and the girl looked far from convinced. She looked wary, and that made him wary too.

But the second that Oliver heard that title announced, he heard something shift inside of him. Something dangled in front of his face, like meat in front of a hungry hound. Nothing mattered any longer but the man that offered it.

"You do not have the strength of a General," Blackwell said. "But it does seem necessary to give you the title nonetheless. A mere Captain should not carry the political influence that you do. If we are to use you towards that purpose, then you will be presented as General Patrick, and your name will carry the weight it ought to have. It is not so outlandish, given your achievement in slaying General Zilan. What say you, General Karstly?"

"He would not be the worst General in the country to receive the title," Karstly said. "But naturally, he will be far too green for me to trust him. I suppose war will force his growth. But it is amusing to suppose that he might suddenly be elevated. Amusing enough that I would agree with the suggestion, merely to see the look on the faces of Asabel's men – to see two grand bits of strangeness proffered all at once."

"Then, by my authority, I shall recommend you for that title," Blackwell said. "And you will call yourself by it, in the calling of these meetings for our cause. But only Queen Asabel can ensure that you are granted it in an official capacity. Until then, it will be the empty posturing of a colourful peacock. It will be down to you, Ser Patrick, to see to it that you are given it. Convince Queen Asabel."

"Give me a second… to consult," Oliver managed to say, with a hand to his chest. Ingolsol was raging with delight. Never had that power hungry part of him foreseen such an offer, and never could he think of declining it.

He turned to Verdant, with one eye open, and the other closed, in an attempt to contain himself. That one open eye was almost solid gold, and Verdant met it head on with a smile. "Opportunity becomes you, my Lord. Such is the place that a man like you ought to be. The kingdom is shifting, I can see it. This is the prophecy that Minister Hod has delighted in reminding us of. We fall into a Time of Tigers, and you my Lord, are one such Tiger."

"…Why wouldn't you be a General?" Lady Blackthorn added. "You're strong, and you're trustworthy."

"I'm not strong enough for that title, though," Oliver said. "It would be empty. I'd be receiving it before my time."

"So?" Lady Blackthorn said. "You'd just get stronger, wouldn't you? And you'd get the opportunity to practice."

"It would be dishonourable to jump ranks so quickly, just for the sake of politics…" Oliver said.

"Dishonourable?" Verdant said. "Dishonourable is the machinations of the High King. I do not think you could ever take such a title, my Lord, and use it for dishonour. There is no greater glory than to fight under you. What more honour can you offer men than that?"

"Nila," Oliver said, turning to her, knowing that she would likely be the sole dissenting voice in it all.

The look on the girl's face could not have been more troubled, as she bit her lip. Oliver knew how she felt about war. She didn't like fighting in them herself, and had done all she could to push them away from her. But they'd found her nonetheless, and she'd always taken what efforts she could to protect what was important to her. Now they were effectively putting those important things right in the heart of the fire.

"…If we ignore it, would we be safe?" She said, sounding hopeful.

Oliver shook his head. "I do not think so. We have barely survived until now."